Who Writes Short Shorts
by Ian Birnbaum

Brevity. Practice. Shorter=better. Mostly fun. Enjoy.

Elliot Briggs was a stalwart old man. His 78 years draped around him like a torn cloak about his sagging shoulders.

When the street near his shop changed, Elliot would sigh, tap his cane three times in the dirt before him and spit a long brown streak into the dust that settled into his store and aged wrinkles ‘round his grey eyes.

The more things changed, the more Elliot would tap his cane, until, one day, the only thing different was that there was no one to tap the cane, and the brown stain slowly dried into the dust around it.

Words: 101

Perspective: Omniscient Third


Jim’s knees shook, his usual response to a nervous state. Both of them had been trapped in the stalled elevator for only an hour, but now, with the carriage rumbling downwards, they stood together reluctantly.

They had connected – necessary acquaintances blossomed into potent friends in the dim space they had shared between 4 and 5.

When the elevator stopped, Jim let her step out first. She turned.

“I –“

Jim’s phone rang; he silenced it. She looked hopeful, but he said quietly, “my wife.”

He turned away, and she watched his retreating back grow smaller, a quiet tear near her eye.

Words: 101

Perspective: Limited Third

Gorilla142.gifHow’d it start? Well, Jay takes this gummy worms bag and licks one, then throws it at the ceiling - it sticks! Like Susan's Margolow’s panties after prom, they stick like GorillaGlu. In 20 seconds this whole bag - 1000 piece assorted worms, but tasting all the same – is on the ceiling of a century-old hotel room!

Sean walks in. Laughing, he’s like, "you’re fucked!"; Teacher’s coming around checking we're not breaking shit. Panic.

Since we are breaking shit, we freak out. Try jumping at the little bastards. Can’t reach. Thinking fast, we slam off the lights and dive to bed, clothes still on.

Teacher comes in, pleased we're in bed and the place isn't on goddamn fire; he can't see the worms. We pretend to sleep, so he leaves. He's at the doorway, paused, and this 6 inch long, slimy-with-spit-and-stucco red and green monstrosity comes spinning out of the darkness and slaps him in the forehead.

In the dark we see him turn purple, and he rams the light switch so hard the lady above us had her bulbs burn out.

As he's screaming his lungs out, I've never been closer to pissing myself, I was laughing so damn hard.

Words: 201

Perspective: First

Done! :flexes:

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